


Ghost in the Machine

by mozart_freedom



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Hades Tigers - Freeform, Season Three Playoff Final Game 2, blaseball - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26113303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozart_freedom/pseuds/mozart_freedom
Summary: At the bottom of the fifth, Jessica receives a call from an old friend.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Ghost in the Machine

**Author's Note:**

> i like how the results of random number generation can be turned into really cool narrative moments. we are love blaseball, and the commissioner is doing a great job.

Incineration was not swift. 

It was a fireworks display, and a funeral pyre. 

Words spilled from a mouth wreathed in metal and hard plastic. She did not know if such heresies captivated her teammate, or steeled his resolve. Its bare hand was a hot, burning coal, alight with an even darker flame that set Violence ablaze. The atrocity scorched the Sixth Circle, scattering the embers to chthonic winds, bellowing and howling with the force of a batter’s untimely rapture. 

For a moment, Jessica Telephone questioned how she could possibly take a step past home plate. But the gravity of blaseball crushed such a notion underfoot, and took the thought of a moment of silence, a bent knee, or the shedding of tears into the gaping maw of bird feathers and peanut shells. 

Jessica did not know if the vibrations were from her, the field, or the Bat. The white noise that overcame her senses were interrupted by something novel. 

The Ringing. 

She planted the _Dial Tone_ firmly on the grass, placing her ear to the receiver. It was not comfortable. 

“Hello?”, she asked. 

**< < ⸘ DO YOU ACCEPT THE CHARGES ? >>**

“Yes.”

Thunder roared, jagged crimson arcing between boisterous clouds. A thunderclap called her name. 

There were no words, for they were lodged in her throat and unable to be free. It was the vice grip of her will warring with the pit in her stomach. She glanced at the lights, burning embers that heated the air above the stadium.

“Landry?”, she pleaded. 

“Carry me with you until the ninth. Will you do this for me?”

She nodded. 

It is said that death is the only escape from blaseball. She should be glad. She should be _happy_ for him. She should be jealous. 

"Do you see?"

He had not told her where to look. Jessica stared into the roiling thunder; into Landry Violence. 

“This is _all_ I am, Jess. Wield me!”

Her helm felt tight around her head. There were no words. But things were spoken. 

"I will."


End file.
